Tasty Thoughts
by ZeyoftheNorth
Summary: Hannibal and Will drabbles. Themes vary, but with emphasis on Hannigram.
1. Nightmares

**A/N: Tender drabbles first. I'll ease into the ****angsty stuff later. I'm brimming with ideas for these two. Some lighter pieces will also be included.**

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**|Nightmares|**

Will was asleep, wrapped in the soft linen sheets. He looked so innocent when he slept deeply, undisturbed.

The incident had occurred three nights ago.

Dr. Hannibal Lecter sat on the leather sofa in his living room, a book in hand, and his favorite glass of wine on the coffee table next to him. Melancholy classical music played in the background as he smiled, amused. Dr. Lecter appreciated fine literature the way he appreciated fine cuisine.

He heard a knock on his door, timid at first, but louder the second time. When Hannibal pulled back the door, he found a bed-headed Will Graham preparing to leave. His blue eyes were red-rimmed. The doctor suspected insomnia.

"Will," he smiled benevolently. "What a surprise. Come in." He stepped aside, allowing the conflicted empath to walk into his office. "Here, let's go into the living room. It's more comfortable."

Will seated himself on the sofa nervously, while Hannibal took the armchair. "I had a nightmare," Will blurted. "You were the first person I thought of seeing."

Hannibal allowed a silent moment to slip away before answering. "Do you want to tell me what the dream was about?"

Will shook his head with an acrid smile. "No, no. I just..."

He needed a place where he felt secure. People tended to feel safe around Hannibal. Grave mistake.

"Would you like to sleep here?" Hannibal offered. This could be interesting.

Will looked at him incredulously and a furious blush captured his features. It seemed... inappropriate, burdensome. He was prepared to humbly decline when Hannibal interrupted him gently.

"You're not the first patient who came to me complaining about nightmares. You need a change of scenery. I'm willing to offer you one."

Will took a moment to consider. He had come here for a reason, a deep inside he had hoped Hannibal would offer him to stay. He dreaded the nightmares-dreaded losing his mind. Here, he felt sheltered. "I'll take the sofa," he said.

"Actually," Hannibal gestured towards the open book and the glass of wine on the coffee table, "I was hoping you'd take the bed. You see, I'm not a big fan of sleeping."

Will chuckled under his breath with a slight smile, "Yes, of course, doctor. As you say."

Hannibal led Will to the bedroom and then retreated to the living room and resumed his reading. He had turned the music off this time, so as not to disturb William. He was reading Jules Verne, when something caught his attention. Will was calling for him, talking in his sleep. Hannibal walked up the stairs and parted the door to the bedroom.

Will was, indeed, asleep, if one could call it sleep. A brutal frown marred his features, and he writhed as if trying to escape restraints. He muttered his name once again, and Hannibal approached the edge of the bed. He perched next to Will and tentatively put his hand on the young man's cheek. The tension in Will's body slightly eased at the contact. He was sweating, Hannibal realized.

"Shh," he said. "They're only nightmares."

He stayed with him for a while, just sitting beside him, watching over him. When Will didn't make another sound, convinced that he'd soothed down, Hannibal made to leave. It surprised him when a firm grip caught his hand and held him back.

Will's eyes were closed and he hadn't said a word, but his eyebrows were furrowed, knuckles turning white. Hannibal pressed his parted lips together and assumed a more comfortable position beside Will, leaning against the headboard. Will shifted slightly to make space for him, still refusing to openly acknowledge his presence. The frown left his face, and after a while, he started breathing evenly.

A faint smile playing on his lips, Hannibal looked at Will with affection and briefly ran his fingers through the boy's wavy hair. "Good night, little empath," he spoke softly and allowed himself to drift into a light sleep.


	2. Deadlock

**A/N: Hello! This chapter makes references to characters and locations from _Silence of the Lambs_. By the way, everyone who was involved in the #eattherude campaign, we did a great job! Here's to hoping the show doesn't get cancelled. If it does, #eattherude we will.**

**Enjoy!**

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**|Deadlock|**

Will stood before the squat grey building; the letters "Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane" sprawled over the entrance. A strange feeling stirred inside him as he stood there, a hidden protest. Hannibal Lecter did not-could not-belong to a place like this. The monster inside him was a beautiful, elegant monster. Will felt like this building had devoured this beautiful monster, restrained him to a substandard environment. It was insulting.

Dr. Chilton cleared his throat.

"Shall we?"

Will Graham didn't answer him. Instead, he took a step forward and ran his hand over the dusted nameplate. Criminally insane, the exposed portion read. He entered the building.

They walked through dark, winding corridors. Dr. Chilton's heeled shoes clicked vexingly behind him. Cell bars rattled as the prisoners thrust themselves forward, intrigued by the newcomer.

"Hey, doc," called one of them. "Doc, can you come here a second? Look, look! I think I've grown a third nipple!" Prisoners around him snickered, while a sly smile spread over the prisoner's face. "Who's this puppet? Can I take a shot?"

Dr. Chilton ignored the prisoner as they walked towards a partition that led to the next block.

"Ooh," the prisoner called, desperately now. "You're taking him to see your precious Dr. Lecter. Tell me, is he some psychoanalyst, or are you bringing the doctor his next meal?" More snickers.

Will froze.

"What's wrong, doll? Did I push a button there?" The prisoner inquired.

"Shut it, Miggs," Frederick Chilton snapped. "Shut it, or else I know how to shut you."

Miggs produced a low laugh that resembled a snarl. "Toodle-oo," he said, with a little wave.

They crossed the partition.

The hallway suddenly became darker, all the lights dimmed in this area. The prisoners looked subdued, minding their own business or staring blankly into space.

"This is where we keep the more complex creatures in our reservation," Chilton whispered. They walked quietly, albeit Chilton's heels clicking in the hallway. Finally, they reached the last cell.

The cells around his were vacant, and inside the cell itself, pitch dark. Will could barely make out a silhouette of a man seated in the center, his head bent forward, his fringe falling before his eyes. For a moment he imagined he saw a crimson glint in those eyes, but the next, it was gone.

Loud classical music blared in the speakers. Adagio in G minor, Will recognized.

"Hannibal," Will called in a tender whisper. He thought he saw Dr. Lecter wince. Chilton, of course, hadn't noticed.

"Lecter!" He shouted, banging his fist against the glass that separated them. It was Will who winced this time.

The lights switched on, and Will could finally see the monster in his true glory. He could not hear the music anymore, and Chilton had also disappeared. Only when Hannibal finally met his eyes did he realize that he'd been standing there for hours.

"Hannibal," he repeated in a whisper. The corner of the monster's mouth quirked, resembling a smile Will once knew too well.

"Will."

His eyes looked hollow, will noticed. His wrists were bruised. In addition, grey overalls didn't suit him.

"So I thought," Hannibal confirmed. Will had spoken aloud.

_They can't do this to you,_ he wanted to say. _They can't lock you up here! You don't belong in the bilge. Not with these people. You belong with—_

Stop.

His thoughts overwhelmed him, and he felt like his mind would burnout. Desperately, he shut his eyes and leaned his forehead against the glass, his left fist raised for support.

Gradually, gracefully, Hannibal walked up to the glass. His eyes never left Will Graham, who had now regained his posture and watched Hannibal with steady eyes. His lips were set in a firm line. His body shook almost imperceptibly. He needed to be with Hannibal.

Hannibal caught Will's struggle, nonetheless vulnerability unveiled in his eyes. The mere sight of Will astounded him. He feared that Will hated him. He feared for Will. At the same time, he felt relieved that Will had come. Will's heart was broken.

Both men did not know what to say.

"It's a nice, sunny day outside," Will ventured. "Reminds me of the day we found the Minnesota Shrike's third victim… except it wasn't the Minnesota Shrike, it was you."

Hannibal smiled.

Will awaited his reply.

"Yes, it was."

Will's first instinct was to punch the glass that separated them, but he didn't. Instead, he stared into Hannibal's soulful eyes, wondering _how?_ His own stinging eyes were a nuisance.

Hannibal wanted to brush Will's tears away, but he couldn't. Instead, he leaned against the glass and closed his eyes. Will mimicked him; the only thing between them was the bulletproof glass.

"I miss you," Hannibal whispered.

"I miss you," Will replied.

Will opened his eyes and silently started walking towards the door. Hannibal opened his eyes when he heard the door shut.

Will was gone.


End file.
